The Line Between
by goodbyegirl
Summary: Peace has reigned for several years. But nothing can stay the same forever, and the past is about to resurrect itself once more.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I neither own the Gundam Enterprise, nor will I ever. I do, however, own this story and any and all characters of my own devising.

The Line Between

_All cats seem grey in the dark._

_-Anonymous_

Prologue: All Cats are Grey

Night was falling fast, and the majority of the employees working at Syntax laboratories had already left for home. Even the most stolid of workaholics were securing their experiments until they could resume their research in the morning. Manuella Santos watched from the door to her tiny cubicle as they scurried past. _Their like ants, always rushing, always moving, but never really looking out for what's ahead. Work, work, work, for the good of the colony. The individual can go screw itself. _ She shook her head.

A wave of bitterness arose inside of her. _Six years of working the graveyard shift and what do I have to show for it?_ _A measly paycheck every two weeks, for what I have to go through night after night I should be living the good life right now. Lounging on some pink sand beach somewhere next to my multi-million dollar mansion._ Her smoker's lungs convulsed in what should have been a laugh but somehow ended up as a hacking cough.The bluish bruises beneath her squinty eyes made her eyes seem like wrinkled raisins peeking out of her sagging face. She shifted her heavy bulk from one foot to the other. There was a time when she would swear to herself that she'd lay off the fried chicken and fast-food mush. Somehow it didn't matter nearly as much to her now that she was almost always alone at nights. Day-dreams of hot and sweaty flings with a faceless cabana boy had eased into frustration and the pretense that she couldn't care less. She watched another tall neatly dressed executive swipe his card and stride through the revolving doors to a sunset drenched freedom.

A shuffling behind her reminded her that she was not alone. _Dammit Farnsworth. Fuckin' prick leaving me to look after the fuckin' students. _She wanted to scream. _I'm not a goddamm baby-sitter._ Instead she turned around to glare at the three interns who were to spend the rest of the night observing her. Her thin mouth tightened into a grimace.

"Since we're gonna be spending the next eight hours together, I might as well have your names." Her callous introduction left the three young people in front of her stunned into silence. "You, girl," The girl looked up, eyes wide and startled. "Your name, what is it?" She fumbled with her glasses for a moment before stammering, "Meredith Gianno, Ma'am."

Manuella turned her icy gaze to the man standing beside her. He made a pathetic picture. His hair was plastered to his skull with god knows what sort of gel, squinty eyes of an indefinite color were magnified to a bug like size behind his coke bottle glasses, and the legs of his pants were far too long for him and rolled up twice so they wouldn't be dirtied by touching the pristine floor. "Malcolm, M-Malcolm Boudreaux." Panicky hands flew immediately to straiten his hopeless rag of a tie. His forehead was already drenched with sweat that he mopped up quickly using a yellowed handkerchief. His entire body slumped once her gaze had left his, he was clearly uncomfortable.

She turned to face the last intern, giving him a look that said that he wasn't worth the gum stuck to the bottom of her grey tennis shoes. He glared right back at her, unflinching, obviously used to being in a position of power. "My name Ms…" He glance at her badge, "Santos, is Henry Irving Wallace Pembroke the fourth. Surely you've heard of my family, as we host the annual Christmas ball for Syntax Enterprises every year. My father is on the governing council." Now to be completely truthful, Manuella had never heard of the Pembroke's before, and she had never been invited to the Christmas ball either. Both of these points irked her, but she would die before some snotty nosed runt would think her impressed by the sheer length of his name.

There was another thing that bothered Manuella. All three of them were graduates of Ivy-League schools from across the nation,_ "And",_ she thought,_ "They would have had at least a dozen offers of promotion given several months time. They'll be getting the big money while I'm still here, at the bottom of the food chain."_ She laughed, if you could call it that. In all reality it was a heaving of her pronounced bosom accompanied by a sort of rasping cough. She ignored the odd looks the interns gave her. She sneered at them. Sure they might become big-shots soon, but for now…now they were beneath _her_. And knowing that fact, made Manuella feel very, very, powerful.

"What are you three staring at? Its seven forty-five," She checked her watch, "Seems to me you three are late getting to work."

"B-but Ma'am you never tol-"

A bone chilling scream cut off all conversation. Manuella's face turned a sickly green, and sweat oozed like oil from her forehead.

The intern, who seemed to be so proud of his name, stared at Manuella, his brow furrowing in worried lines. "What was that?" He demanded.

Instead of answering Manuella hurried her bulk to her desk, jerked open one of the drawers and grabbed her ID tag with her pudgy fingers and hurried to a stainless steel pair of doors. The interns followed her like sheep. Above the doors, painted in wide letters the sign read "Paranormal Studies: Experimental Sector One." The hoarse screams were reverberating off of the spartan walls. A beep signaled the opening of the doors, and the screaming grew louder. The sound of their heels clicking on the newly waxed floor meshed with the other, assaulted their ears. The fluorescent lighting above their heads flickered.

"Is it an animal?" Meredith asked as she tugged on a lock of her white-blonde hair nervously.

Manuella turned down another hall way and paused in front of a medicine cabinet. Once again she swiped her card and with a click, the glass door opened. Her hands shook as she rifled through the experimental medication until she found what she needed. She grabbed a syringe and filled it completely with the liquid tranquilizer she was holding, emptying the bottle. Once done she turned to face the group finally answering the girl's question. Disgust showed on her face. "No, but it might as well be. It's experiment X96203. Now, don't move. None of you have clearance to pass beyond this point."

She walked down the hall to a door that was secluded from the rest. Once again she swiped her card, as the heavy metal door swung open the ear-splitting scream rose up in a wave forcing the three to cover their ears, their screams joining with the first. Red blood oozed through Malcolm's hands. The building shivered, and the window to the glass cabinet behind them exploded into dangerous shards. The door swung closed again, and the lock clanged into place, and still they could hear the screaming as well as the stocky nurse's rasping voice. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the horrible screaming stopped and complete and utter silence fell like a heavy curtain on the corridor. Malcolm sobbed quietly, as the other two tried to help him to stand again. The lock turned slowly and the tumblers fell into place with a metallic clank, and Manuella emerged. Her face was now slick with sweat, and a dark grey-green color. Her huge chest heaved with each breath, her heart was racing. She looked at them blankly, then, slowly the embittered soul returned, but this time she was somehow colder, more distant.

"I'm afraid," she intoned calmly, "that I am going to have to call my supervisor. And as of now I think it is safe to say that we no longer have any need of you at the moment, your internships will be officially revoked in three days time. Until then, you are not to return to work here, nor are you to tell anyone what you have seen or heard. If you do, we will hear of it, and I can assure you that you will have great reason to regret what you have done."

The implied threat still hung in the air as she turned her back and walked haltingly back down the hallway.


	2. And the waltz begins anew

A/N: It took me a while, but here is the first chapter. Its short I know, but once I have a little more time I can promise that the chapters will become much longer. Any reviews are appreciated, as always.

**Ashe Nightingale: **Thanks so much for being my first reviewer. Hopefully this story should last a long while. And yes that was the point of the prologue. - I like to keep my readers hooked.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. I do however own this story, its plot and any original characters.

Chapter One: The Waltz Begins Anew

_At the Preventor's H.Q._

_Oh Treize. If only you could see what we have accomplished after the war. Earth and the Colonies, working together. Who would have imagined that we would come together under the Preventors name? All of us. Preventing war, so no one has to be hurt anymore. What would you think of this? Would you be proud of us? I think you would and perhaps, a little bored. You always needed excitement in your life, Trieze._

Lady Une traced the gently smiling face of her beloved that beamed up at her from beneath the glass of the picture frame.

_Trieze._

_How I miss you. Trieze…_

"Lady Une?"

The former commander of Treize started from her daze, and shuffled around some of the dossiers on her desk. She looked at her pile of intelligence that had been collected with a sad eye. Every folder held what could be equated to a ticking time bomb that could destroy the peace she and so many others had fought so hard to obtain.

"Yes Cynthia?"

"A mister Zachary Smith to see you ma'am." The secretary watched her earnestly, waiting for a response.

"Send him in then." Une sighed, she was about to receive more intelligence from one of her best operatives, second only to a certain five teenagers. She smiled as she thought of them. _Well, their actually more like men now. It seems like yesterday that they were risking their very lives for-_

"-Une? Lady Une?" The masculine voice pulled her away from her thoughts. She blinked only to find Zachary standing in front of her, dressed in the usual Preventor uniform that did nothing to emphasize the color of his watery blue eyes. She smiled softly and gestured to the small brown chair in front of her desk.

"Please, Agent Smith. Take a seat."

"Thank you Lady." He handed her a dossier that was slightly thicker than the rest that sat piled on Une's desk. She paged through it, scanning the notes that were scrawled on the papers inside. She placed the folder open on her desk directly in front of her. A black and white glossy photo of a stout little man in a lab-coat stared up at her. Accompanying it were several other photos of gruesome subjects. Some were of animals partially mutated, still more of experimental surgeries and two of human test subjects in what seemed to be excruciating pain. She avoided these pictures even though her heart tightened in pity for these…things and turned immediately to the daily notes taken. Her eyebrows arched in surprise.

"It says here that you were supposed to remain as an operative at Syntax Labs for three more months." Her eyes met his searchingly and then traveled to the large bandage covering his left ear. "What went wrong?"

Zachary grimaced, obviously noticing what she was eyeing. "It was out of my hands." He stood and began to pace the length of the room, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and flicking it opened and closed in the habit of an anxious smoker. "My cover was never compromised, I was getting good information."

"Sit Zachary."

He did so.

"So why were you dismissed? I have to admit that several of my peers were not pleased with that fact."

"I apologize for any problems I might have caused you Lady Une, but there was nothing I could do about the dismissal, even if I could it would have jeopardized the entire operation. I did find out some very interesting information, as you'll find in that file." He gave a little half smile. "Almost by accident. In fact if it weren't for a certain Santa Manuela," a gravely laugh rose from his chest, "I wouldn't have found anything nearly as interesting."

He paused and grew serious. "They're experimenting in the paranormal sector. From what I've gathered it's a sort of serum combined with some kind of electronic mechanism, an implant maybe. Whatever it is, X96203 is extremely dangerous."

"Do you know the basic purpose of this experiment?"

"It's stated in the brief, but maybe it'll be easier if I explain it in person. X96203 amplifies mental capabilities, but only in a select few, with certain…"

She grasped his meaning instantly.

"Talents? In other words you're saying that their testing on …"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"That's impossible."

"From what I've seen I'd say that it is quite in the realm of possibility."

"Oh god. How far are they?"

"Far enough that it- whatever it is can manipulate sound waves."

"That's why, your ear-"

He winced, and touched the offending area.

"Yes. But they can't control it yet."

"Heavenly mother preserve us all." She ignored the odd look he gave her. "If word gets out of this to any of the underground organizations-"

He nodded.

"Exactly. This peace will be over and we'll have another coup on our hands, possibly more than one. And each and every one of them will want to take control of the government."

The exposure of such a serious discovery left them both silent for a moment.

The silence fell heavy on Lady Une. Both she and Zachary had seen the ugly side of war, and neither wanted to see it again.

"What do you suggest Agent Smith?"

"The problem is in the experiment itself and its creator. Destroy them."

"Nothing is ever that simple. You of all people should know that."

"What other choice do we have? Even if we throw everyone involved in an adamantine prison, the knowledge will leak out somehow. It is mankind's flaw. At risk of breaching my rank Lady, I must tell you I believe this to be the best solution."

Une nodded, her eyes showing a deep pain.

"Zachary, you are one of my closest friends. I needed your advise and you gave it. You are also one of my best Junior officers, and I am agreeing with you. Better one die, then one thousand more."

"Exactly…you might want to consider putting a group of special individuals on this assignment."

"I don't know if I could put them through something like this, their healing still. The wars have left their marks upon all of them."

"So has their training."

"We shall see."

"It's for the sake of peace, Lady."

"I will call a meeting between ten of our best operatives. If we're luck we can form our team from them. If not…Well then, I suppose we won't have any choice but to use the pilots' talents." A tremulous smile quivered upon her lips as a new thought crossed her mind. "I guess you can't use that alias anymore."

They stood. Two people each fighting in their own way for the precious peace between earth, the colonies, and now the terra-forming project Mars. He turned towards the door, but her voice halted his movement.

"Oh and you had better take care of that ear. I need you in the field…and next time maybe you'll have a better name than Malcolm".

They shared a secret smile.

"I will Lady."

The door clicked shut behind him leaving Lady Une in silence.

* * *

Lady Une surveyed the group of people in front of her. 

"I've called you here today because I am hoping that a select few out of you would volunteer for an important mission. The peace each of us has helped achieve is in jeopardy. I and several other people have reviewed your records and all of you are prime candidates. Each one of you has a specialty that could benefit this operation."

She passed around dossiers to everyone at the long mahogany table.

"This is a rough idea of what is going on, copies of the experimental files. Some information has been omitted for your protection. Once your officially part of the team you'll receive the full amount of data we've collected including blueprints of the building. Any who are interested should call the contact number at the bottom of the front page."

She took a deep breath. _Please. Let one of them be the godsend we need so badly._

"Your all dismissed. I hope to hear from you soon."

_Please, God…_Her train of thought paused there, and the laughed inwardly. _Since when have you become so religious?_ She thought to herself wryly. _Even after all that I've seen I still need to know that there's something more. I need to know that Treize is still here. Maybe not physically, but this way I can talk to him. Yes. Maybe that's why. Or maybe its human nature maybe we need the idea of a God. Maybe. _She shook her head. _Jesus Une, you've gotten cynical haven't you._

* * *

"Cynthia, has anyone called in yet?" 

"No ma'am." The petite woman turned to go back to her office. Une's voice stopped her.

"It's been a day since I called the meeting. Their not going to call are they."

She squelched the wave of disappointment that was rising inside of her.

"No ma'am. I don't believe they are."

Une nodded. She knew this already.

"Is there anything else I can do for you Lady?"

Lady Une studied the picture of the great leader Treize Kushrenada.

_What would you do Treize?_ His face smiled up at her, and suddenly it seemed almost as if there was a tiny whisper in her mind. She could almost swear that she heard his voice.

"Yes Cynthia there is. Call a meeting of the ex-Gundam pilots."


End file.
